Page 19 of Reckless Consequences

Peace.

Because we’re together now. All of us. And whatever comes next, we’ll face it as what we truly are.

Pack.

Chapter6

Cayenne

The change happens in a heartbeat.

One moment, Theo is swaying on his feet, fighting for control—the next, his pupils widen until only a thin ring of brown remains. His head falls back, throat exposed as a sound escapes him that isn’t quite human—half keen, half growl, hitting something deep inside me.

My body reacts instantly—flushing, muscles tightening, moisture gathering between my thighs in a way my beta body shouldn’t respond. More alarming, I feel a sudden swelling at my neck—scent glands activating that had been dormant my entire life.

“Don’t move,” Ryker’s voice rumbles against my ear, his body suddenly pressed against my back, caging me between himself and Theo. His hand grips my hip firmly. “His pheromones just spiked. If you step back now, he’ll read it as rejection.”

I couldn’t step back if I wanted to. Theo’s scent has transformed from dark vanilla and jasmine into something richer that bypasses thought and connects directly to desire.

“What’s happening to me?” I whisper, unable to tear my eyes from Theo, whose skin gleams with sweat, flush spreading down his neck. The swelling at my neck throbs in time with my pulse.

“Your virus-altered scent is confusing his heat,” Jinx explains, appearing at my side, his cherry tobacco scent intensifying. “And his pheromones are affecting you more strongly than they should affect a beta.”

The virus has changed more than just my scent—it’s altering how my body responds, creating something between beta and omega. Sterling’s work, inadvertently creating a bridge between designations rather than the purge he intended.

Theo makes a strangled sound, his knees buckling. I catch him without thinking, his weight heavy against me. His skin burns through his thin shirt, fever-hot and damp.

“The nest,” he gasps, fingers clutching at my shirt. “Need—please?—”

I follow his gaze to the corner, where what I’d dismissed as a pile of bedding reveals itself to be something deliberate—a carefully constructed haven of mattresses and blankets, every pack member’s clothing woven through in a pattern only Theo could create. The sight of my own t-shirt in the design brings unexpected emotion.

He built this for all of us. And waited, despite his body screaming for relief.

“I’ve got you,” I murmur, supporting his weight as we move toward the nest, Ryker and Jinx flanking us. Behind us, Finn’s steady monitor beeps confirm the booster is working, his vital signs stabilizing even as Theo’s spiral into chaos.

I glance back at Finn, noting the improvement since I administered the booster. The angry flush has disappeared from his skin. His breathing has deepened and regularized. The monitor shows his temperature has dropped nearly two degrees—still elevated but no longer dangerous. Even unconscious, he looks more like himself again.

As we pass his bed, I catch a shift in his scent—rain-washed stone with fresher notes. His hand twitches, fingers moving in patterns as if solving equations in sleep. Through our connection, I feel a flutter of his consciousness—not awake, but closer to the surface.

The moment we reach the nest, Theo’s demeanor changes—something almost feral flickering across his features as he pulls me down. The scents of our pack intensify, released from the fabrics. Cedar and steel from Ryker’s shirt. Cherry tobacco from Jinx’s jacket. The faintest trace of Finn’s rain-washed calm from a nearby pillow.

And now me, adding citrus and ozone to the mix—bright, sharp, unmistakably mine.

“Perfect,” Theo breathes, pupils wide, hands gentle but sure as he positions me. Even now—flushed, trembling—there’s reverence in his touch. “You’re here. You’re actually here.”

“I promised, didn’t I?” The words catch in my throat as his hands find the hem of my shirt, tugging impatiently.

“Too many clothes,” he groans, fingers fumbling with buttons and zippers. “Need skin. Need to feel you.”

His desperation is infectious, overriding my hesitation. I help him strip away my layers, each exposed inch of skin feeling hypersensitive. When his hand finally touches my bare stomach, we both gasp—his touch burning, sending waves through me.

“You smell...” he buries his face against my neck, inhaling deeply where the new scent glands have emerged, “wrong. Right. Different. Like beta but more. Like pack but new.”

Before I can respond, he bites down on the junction where my neck meets my shoulder—not the gentle nip I’d expect from an omega, but something claiming and possessive that makes my back arch, a cry escaping my lips.

Heat spreads from the bite, followed by intense pleasure. I feel something changing, the connection with Theo strengthening.

“Fuck,” Jinx growls from above us. “Did he just?—?”

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